


Heartrate

by StrikeLikeACobraKai



Series: Working Up a Sweat [5]
Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: 1987ish, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Boxing, Breakfast in Bed, But it do be like that, But we need this part, Edging, Eyebanging, Filthy but still with feels, Friends With Benefits, Frotting, Hand Jobs, Heady AF, Hit me with your best shot as foreplay, I fought as hard as I could for the extra feels not to come in here just yet, I guess the wordplay is back a bit, I mean you'd need a magnifying glass to find it, Kissing OBVIOUSLY, M/M, Marking, More questions though, No internalised biphobia in this series, No smut in part 2 I'm afraid, POV Bobby, POV First Person, Poor Bobby, Some angst, That ok???, Threesome - M/M/M, WILL THERE??????, Will there be kissing???, Wordplay, emotional tension, ish, kinda orgasm denial, smut with feels, some answers, sorry about that, sweat kink, tender moments, training together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27912649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrikeLikeACobraKai/pseuds/StrikeLikeACobraKai
Summary: c. 1987.Dutch decides it’s about time he got to do a workout with Johnny and Bobby.(Inspired by every shirtless pic/gif from TKK, and in particular the shorts and lack of shirts at soccer tryouts)
Relationships: Bobby Brown/Johnny Lawrence, Dutch/Bobby Brown, Dutch/Johnny Lawrence, Johnny Lawrence/Dutch/Bobby Brown
Series: Working Up a Sweat [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018029
Comments: 50
Kudos: 27





	1. Part 1: Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wadsworth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wadsworth/gifts).



> Hey, my dudes. So here we are again :) Dutch makes a return, and I’ve pasted a note here from Part 4 about him, as a reminder for how I’m handling him in this series.
> 
> Again, you'll get a much better experience if you read these in order, and again, I realise I can't do anything about it if you don't want to XD
> 
> Sweat is going where I always intended, but my characters are playing havoc with my planned pacing. SO. THERE’S THAT. I spent days trying to fight it, but here we are. They won’t wait for some things.
> 
> Hope you like this one :) I absolutely thrive on your feedback. Every single kudos, comment or tumblr like that you give me means so much. Thank you for doing that. I love knowing that people are reading this series. I’m still writing it, even though I’m nearing the end-ish, so I wanna throw it out there that it can be really, really good to let me know what you enjoy about this, _specifically_ , because you never know, I MIGHT be able to play with that :) No promises, but I’d certainly like to try. We have a discord too, private only for readers of this series.
> 
> _[Dutch note from Part 4 - disregard if you have already read this] I feel it’s worth pointing out my approach with him here… I’m learning to explore different sides of his character, and what felt right at this time period, this context, was that his intense rage isn’t really around anymore: the influence that caused it is gone, the various threats to himself and to Johnny are gone, and yeah, this is just where I felt Dutch would go after that. He’s always had a lot of emotion, but it manifests differently now. I’m sure the rage would come back, if someone threatened someone (Johnny) he cared about, but Bobby isn’t a threat, in fact he shares the same protective feelings, so… yeah. You’re gonna get way more of a look into what Dutch has with Johnny here, as will Bobby <3 _
> 
> I figure this series is chaotic enough to warrant a sudden two chapter instalment, no?

I don’t think I can explain why Johnny and Dutch have gone out of the room to get changed, and in separate bathrooms, considering that we’ve all seen everything each other have to offer, but here we are.

It hasn’t been quite a month since I went to his house with Johnny that time, but today we’re in the condo I rent with my roommate. Mike and I have always had a good understanding when it comes to having visitors, and we make room for each other whenever we get asked to. This means he’s out all afternoon, and I asked if there was somewhere he could sleep tonight, and there was, so I have the run of the place with Johnny and Dutch until midday tomorrow.

We’re gonna do some training together, with the mitts, maybe with the pad or my bag, on the stand, which I keep in the corner in here, since Mike lived here before I moved in and he’s got the spare room full of his shit, and besides it’s tiny in there.

I’m waiting on the very bottom level of our split, the room where we watch TV. This living area is pretty big, but it’s cut almost in half longways with some of it sunken about a yard lower, where I am, on the carpet, with the sofa. There’s a rail running between the two parts of the room, and there’s a walkway and three steps up at one end, where you can go up to the other half, the main level of the condo, where we have the table and chairs on the slate tiles. Nothing else in my house is down here where I am right at the bottom, only the door; all of the rooms are off the main level, over to the left and right there, except the two biggest bedrooms, which you get to by going up the longer stairs which are through the back, behind the table. They take you to the third level, where there’s just my room, and Mike’s, and a tiny bathroom between.

So I’m waiting for the guys to come back, so we can start training. Well, at least that’s the _first_ thing we’re gonna do.

Dutch comes walking back from the lower bathroom first. He’s changed into some white shorts, and he’s barefoot and not wearing a shirt, much like me, making me wonder all the more exactly what the fucking point was of going elsewhere just to get changed into that.

He’s coming down the three steps to the lower level, where I’m waiting, and he casually crosses the room to me, his eyes on my stomach, I think, could be lower.

“Johnny told me all about those sweatpants, last week,” he tells me, with a meaningful smirk.

He approaches me without any lack of confidence and reaches out to toy with the drawstring, while I’m still thinking about two _really_ important things: Johnny talks about me with him, and he saw Johnny last week?

“Although I was hoping you might wear shorts,” he goes on, and he’s looking into my eyes now, with those deep brown ones of his. “These hide way too much of what I wanna look at.”

I’m standing here pretty much stunned at the way Dutch is able to just say all this, not in the least _surprised_ that he can, but just envious with his self-assurance, wishing I had some of it.

He’s still slowly winding the strings around his finger, smiling at me, kinda invitingly already I guess, but pretty cooled, just enough to get me thinking about things. All kinds of things.

I look appreciatively at his shoulders. I never really got to do what I wanted with those last time; by the time I remembered I hadn’t, it was all over, and I’d missed my chance. I won’t repeat that mistake.

 _You look like you been working out_ , I can’t say, because that’s _way_ too lame; _you look so hot in those shorts against your tan that I want to set myself on fire,_ I also can’t say.

“Sorry to hear that, cos what _I_ wanna see’s right out on display.”

There’s a little flicker in his eyes and his lips move into a much hotter smirk, that is real hard to not just stare at. I notice in greater detail than before, that scar on his bottom lip, just off center, and I’m watching it intently when he says, “Always happy to be of service.”

And now I’m wondering if we should just skip the training, when I hear Johnny start coming down the stairs from the top level. He’s wearing my favorite shorts, the thin grey ones, his regular workout shorts, and those things are a national treasure.

And that’s all he’s wearing as he walks across the carpet in bare feet to us, with one eyebrow raised because the two of us are standing really pretty close.

“I thought we were going to train?” Johnny asks us, a playfulness in his face that is another of my favorite things, eyes on Dutch first, although he then turns to me expectantly, too.

Dutch gives a low chuckle and finally steps away from me.

“Then _train,”_ Dutch tells him.

Johnny picks up my gloves from where I’ve put everything on the couch, and throws them to him. “Put those on and I will.”

Dutch starts to wrap his hands first, and when he’s got the gloves on, Johnny picks up the pad and holds it, waiting.

Dutch’s arms come up, and he takes a few first warming up hits, before he starts to put way more into it. I watch him pounding away on the pad, and I’m thinking about those shoulders so much I might go blind. He’s intent, driving his fists in as hard as he can, and I love how fierce he looks. Johnny’s rocking and bracing himself for every punch, which makes his upper body and that leg he’s set behind himself taut and tight as fuck.

I guess I’ll do some training too, so I start stretching my legs as I watch them, and as soon as I’m warm, I lift up to the side, getting higher each time. When I’m confident my hips are good, I pull the bag away from the corner into more space and start on some kicks.

At some point, I notice the other guys have paused, and I see Johnny’s strapping up now, and he soon gets going. We’re all getting pretty hot, enjoying the increased heart rate, the shortness of breath, the physical nature of it. It’s weird, because it feels like we’re back in the dojo together, doing drills, but nothing bad from our past is here in this room with us. I listen to the sounds Johnny makes now that he’s doing the punching, and I know those real well, spent years hearing them. This feels like home to me.

I’ve got just enough room to do some jumps, although not with any run-up to speak of. I’m coming down to kick out hard, aiming as precisely as I can at a chosen spot on the bag I see in my mind, and satisfied every time I hit it. I’m working my legs, both legs, pretty hard getting my jumps in, and it feels good. I’m enjoying the slight numbness I get on my feet from the repeated contacts, which always signals a pleasing amount of effort, for me.

I think it might have subconsciously registered with me that their sounds have stopped again, and then I hear Dutch speak from where they are across the room.

“Still got it,” he says admiringly. I pause, a little out of breath and turn around.

They have stopped their training, and they’re both watching me. Dutch is resting his elbow up on Johnny, leaning on him, in a gesture I’ve seen a thousand times, but today it looks way more intimate. They’re flushed, their exertion clear on their skin, and both sexy enough to transfer that heat right into me, concentrating it in just the one spot for me.

“You good there?” I ask them, unable not to smile at the idea they’ve been watching me.

“Enjoying the show,” Johnny tells me, and his gaze lets me know he isn’t lying.

“You wanna swap out?” I look between them.

Dutch does this little smirk like he’s not sure how much longer we’ll keep this up before we move onto the next stage of our workout.

“Yeah, Bobby,” he says. “Why don’t you come over here?”

Johnny’s undoing the gloves, and when he’s done, he’s pushing all of it into my hands while he heads to the bag.

I’m strapping up and watching him start getting his legs ready, which I have to say, is pretty good to watch in those shorts, like _way_ better than in a gi. I can’t wait to see what the kicks are going to look like.

Dutch is looking down over my chest, and I realise I’m pretty warm there, too, slick, as I did get pretty carried away with the bag, and it looks like he wants to do the kind of things to me that we did with the bourbon the other day, except maybe without the bourbon.

I’m remembering Johnny’s comments about my track pants not hiding much, and I wonder if Dutch has noticed that in person yet, because it’s happening, the longer he looks at me like that. He makes it way worse by dragging just one finger lightly over my abs, smirking, and he definitely knows.

Once I’ve got the gloves on, he’s picking up the pad, curling his arms to wrap around the sides up to the top, and hug it to himself, and it’s pretty much the perfect way to see what his shoulders have to offer, so it’s definitely only gonna make the problem go to new levels.

I’m looking at those while I put the gloves on, chemicals in my brain mixing together with arousal, endorphins, testosterone, _want_ , and then I’m looking at them in between punching, knowing that I’m getting closer and closer to the time when I’m going to have the kind of time I need with those things.

We do pause every now and then, because Johnny is kicking the bag, and even without any thoughts about him not having a shirt on, or what he has in those shorts, that sight would be enough to get me hard any day of the week. He’s always had more power over his body than I can understand, more than seems possible, and his strength just draws you in so you can’t help but be in awe of it.

As someone who always gets a buzz from working out, today is just a whole new thing, and my anticipation is painful for what we’ll do soon.

“It’s hard to know what to look at first, isn’t it?” Dutch asks me, because we’re both pretty fixated now.

I give this kind of ashamed laugh, and figure I may as well say it. “How did I not see this?” I ask quietly, staring at Johnny’s abs and wondering if they’ve burned a hole in my eyes yet. “Like, way before now?”

Dutch gives me a tight smile. “Pretty sure you saw it. Mighta taken you a while to realise what you were looking at.”

“There’s a chance you might be right,” I have to admit. “I’m kinda jealous you worked it out way before I did.”

“It’s a shame,” he agrees. “You’ve missed a _lot_ of fun… it’s gonna take some serious making up for.”

By this time he’s looking at me, not Johnny, and I say, “Well, I’d like to do that. I’d _really_ like to do that.”

Dutch chuckles and raises his eyebrows at me invitingly. “You done, then? You wanna get started on that right away? Or… you wanna get back to it?”

But Johnny seems pretty focused on what he’s doing, so maybe I’ll do a last few punches, too.

We start up again, and it isn’t long until my heart has picked back up, and I’m clenching my jaw as I drive into different places on the pad.

“You can hit me harder than that,” Dutch taunts me. “I can take it.”

So I’m smirking and going for that, and he’s tensing so I don’t push him backwards on my hits, and I’m giving him everything I’ve got, bracing my feet and driving in.

I almost get a fright when I step back into Johnny, who is somehow right behind me all of a sudden.

I laugh and I’m about to move away but his arm comes around my stomach, trapping one of my own against me, and I realise we’re done here.

My body reacts embarrassingly quickly to the thought, as Johnny’s other hand runs up the center of my back, or his fingers do, and I guess we haven’t really done a lot of touching like that without either being in the middle of getting off, or drunk out of our minds. It feels _incredible._

I hadn’t expected the bolt that shoots through my nerves, but another comes again as his fingers go back down my spine, all the way to the base of my back. Then he tightens the arm that he’s got around me, and pulls me back against him, not roughly, just so that my back is lined up all the way along his upper body, so hot it feels like a fire behind me.

“He’s going to need his hands free,” he tells Dutch, from near my ear. “Take care of it.”

The other arm comes around me too, and I close my mouth tight to stifle a whimper at what this feels like, even though doing that is just about the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to achieve.

I can feel his breath, not far from my neck, as I can manage to lift up just my wrists toward Dutch, and he starts on the laces.

Johnny is pretty firmly locked around my stomach now, or just above there, with his hand resting flat on the far side of my body, on my hip, but the other one he is using to touch up over my chest in slow movements, sliding over my damp skin.

Again, all of this is nearly causing my heart to just about stop, maybe for good. Because I hadn’t realised I needed it to happen, but _fuck me_ , now I _really_ do.

“Make sure you leave some of that for me,” Dutch tells Johnny, but he’s looking at me when he says it, and thank hell, he’s onto the strapping now.

Johnny traces over my upper abs, up to my pecs, up to where my deltoids are starting to show nicely, although nowhere near like Dutch’s do. His voice, breathy like a whisper, says, “Fuck, you feel _so good_ to touch.”

This time I do make a sound; there’s literally no way I can’t, and I lean back against him, because it’s getting strangely hard to breathe.

So maybe this is the Johnny I might get, now, on a day when I _haven’t_ pushed him? I can’t work any of this out, but I know that the feeling I’m getting right now is so perfect for me that it’s terrifying.

Dutch has finally thrown the last things down onto the couch, and he steps into me from the front.

He does what I wondered if, kinda started wildly hoping Johnny would do, and he kisses my skin.

I know I shouldn’t think it feels so good, when nothing else is even happening. But he’s got his mouth working slowly from where my biceps end, so slowly that he might be in treacle, all the way over to my chest. Not licking me, not biting, just moving his lips along one touch at a time, and I can’t get any air into my lungs at all, as I stare down at his face, at his workout-messed hair.

I summon some weak energy to finally touch him where I want to, because Johnny lets me slip my arms out to do that. I fit my fingers around his perfect, hard shapes, those amazing shoulders of his, _finally,_ thank _god_ , and they’re like sculpted rock, flawless, and my body _thrills_ to it. I hold him while he keeps going, because touching is enough for now, knowing no one can take it away, my fingers softly finding the edges of his muscles, and I don’t understand anything about how this is making me feel.

I guess it’s a relief when one of Johnny’s hands drops to find my erection, and when Dutch’s mouth starts to get a bit more greedy; when his hands find my thighs as he presses in with his thumbs along the muscles that make up my quads, because this part I know how to do.

Johnny touches me along my trackpants for the few strokes it takes to bring me to fullness and then reaches inside to hold me properly, and I make a sound of relief. Dutch is watching the movement of Johnny’s hand, inside, hidden, and he reaches for my side, my hip, squeezing me there on his way past, before he starts to run up Johnny’s body where he can reach.

My eyesight is already getting a little foggy because Johnny’s just way too good at that, maybe even better at it from this new angle back there.

Dutch is kneeling down, sucking on the skin over my abs now, and I can feel that he’s still moving up as far as he can to touch Johnny behind me.

His other hand comes below where Johnny’s touching me, and cups my balls on the outside, and he starts to try some things, really, really _good_ things. Not to mention there’s not a doubt in my mind what that hard feeling pressing into me is, into my lower back.

Having both of them work me at the same time is making me groan, and my body is starting to itch already. Dutch is running his teeth over my skin like he wants to eat me and then sucking hard, and I can’t do anything about my thoughts of how sexy he looks doing that, how good their hands feel, with how Johnny has gotten faster.

I start to sink into it, feeling the edges of my ache appear.

“Tell him, Johnny,” Dutch encourages, an inch from my skin.

Johnny’s free hand comes up to the front of my neck, his knuckle bent just under my chin and he uses it to turn my head to him.

The touch feels shockingly intimate, and he looks me right in the eyes, too close, too _close._ He says in a low voice, “You will not come, not yet. So you better tell us when to stop.”

A spear of need just about splits me in two, another confusing feeling at why it would feel good to be told that, and my tension only increases.

“You gonna be able to do that?” he prompts.

I’m breathing faster, starting to get pretty needy. “I… _why?_ ” I ask, gazing up at him helplessly.

Dutch is speaking from down there. “Because you’re gonna love it. This is your first time, but we’re gonna teach you to wait for it.”

Johnny slows the hand on my dick, almost to not moving, maybe realising that this might give me a chance to think, to answer, I don’t know.

“You up for it?” he asks. “When you come, and you _will,_ it’s gonna blow your mind out of your fucking skull.”

I can’t work out how to speak, can’t do anything but stare wildly into his eyes, which are so intense it’s blinding me.

But it _already_ feels that way, I want to tell Johnny.

Better than anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve enjoyed experiencing a lot of things with girls, and no doubt still will. His words seem almost dangerous, because how much better could it _be?_

But I trust him.

I’d trust both of them with my life, and I start to nod slightly, trying to look more confident. But my voice comes out shaky, which might be due to the fact that Johnny really won’t stop looking into my eyes.

“Yeah, I - I can do that.”

This isn’t the first look, the one where he wants me to touch him, or to touch me, and it isn’t the second look, that amazing fierce one that scares the life out of me and turns me on so much I can barely handle it, but this is something different entirely, although it has some of look number one in it. But there’s way, way more: an intensity, nothing sharp, but _deep,_ and what does it _mean?_

There’s one small swipe with his thumb on my chin, and he looks at my mouth.

Then a cloud comes over his eyes and he drops his hand, so that he’s no longer keeping my head facing him.

I turn away and swallow hard, but I don’t have any more time to think about that, because Dutch starts massaging me again. He’s gently rolling my balls between his fingers, this time watching me while he does it, and it takes only a few moments of that to get my mind _way_ the fuck on track.

Johnny’s hand starts again, too, and my eyes close, loving how the feeling had gone down, and now is coming back, although not strongly, not yet. It’s kinda like the other night I guess, where they got me going a few times, but I hadn’t thought of it like something you could do on purpose, right to the edge, and then stop. That night was incredible at the end, so maybe there is something to this.

Johnny’s hand comes from far enough to the side that Dutch has plenty of room in the center. Everything is a sea of sensation: their hands, Dutch’s mouth on my skin, the feeling of a hot slick body at my back, the hard-on poking me and driving me absolutely insane, because I can’t help picturing what his dick looks like inside his shorts while he’s doing that.

Dutch starts to put his mouth right near my tracksuit, even pulling it down slightly, to suck hard on my lower stomach, and my eyes open wide in need, burning when I see him run his tongue along me where I can watch.

Johnny’s stroking me kinda slowly, but very firmly, taking his time up and down, using his thumb sometimes where he knows I’m sensitive, when Dutch peels my pants partway down and moves right in front of me between my legs.

I can feel myself trembling as I watch, knowing what’s coming, and knowing the terrible thought that at some point I’m gonna have to stop him before the end, so that I don’t disappoint them both.

He’s looking over my shoulder at Johnny while he takes hold of me again, while he moves in closer, and then he finds my gaze when he opens his mouth. He holds me up so he can lick a stripe underneath me, right up to my head, the tip of his tongue playing over me.

He fits his lips just around me and then pulls slowly again, before moving me right inside the warm, wet, heaven of his mouth. I breathe out a long, shaky breath, realising that Johnny is holding me up a little as I rest back on him, because it’s all I can do not to slide down to the floor with how Dutch does this this to me.

There’s no rushing. It’s like he’s making art and I am absolutely mesmerised.

The pressure starts small, gaining a little with each slide, and then before I realise it has happened, he’s got me going so that a sudden moan is torn from me against my will. I see the way his eyes flash at me about that, so I make sure to add to how grateful I am with a squeeze of my fingers, because this already feels absolutely unreal.

Johnny’s hand starts again over my chest, over my abs, running over me with his fingers spread apart, finding lines to trace on my body. Dutch has both hands on me now, it feels like he’s touching every fucking part of where he’s working, and I’m so drawn in there, it feels just too _good._

I start to groan quietly, a rhythm with his movements, and we’re locked into it now, and I’m going with him, hoping I’m going to be able to call this as close as I can, because I’m pretty sure that’s the whole point.

He’s doing something with his tongue, underneath my dick, while I’m deep in his mouth, and it closes me in so tightly that my ache comes suddenly into focus.

I’m breathing hard as I let it build for just a few more seconds, but then I reach out for his face, what feels like just in time, and he stops.

“My _god_ …” I say on a stutter, and I can’t tell whether I’m glad we stopped or not, because it would have been amazing to keep going just then.

But Dutch is smiling approval at me, which eases it a bit, or a lot, and he stands up and squeezes my bicep.

“Well done.”

“You wanna go up to your room now?” asks Johnny in a murmur.

Dutch adds, “Gonna be his turn next.”

I nod, thinking of my bed, big enough for all sorts of things to happen on, but we are yet to move; Johnny’s still got that arm around me, across my abs, and I’m not sure why it’s hard to step away from that, and from the feeling of his body being along mine, other than that today is the first time I’ve ever felt that, and for all I know it could be the last, and I like it.

I’m saved from having to summon up the will because Dutch has pulled up my tracksuit and looks at us impatiently. “What the fuck are we waiting for, exactly?”

I hear Johnny’s low laugh, and he lets me go, moves away from me.

“Lead the way,” he says, when I turn around, even though he knows where my room is.

I start for the stairs.

Once we’re in my room, I stand back to see how we do this. I just left a sheet on my bed today, and some pillows, nothing else in our way.

Johnny’s waiting with an expectant smile on Dutch, who slips Johnny’s shorts down for him, out of the way, and pushes him onto the bed. Which is a sight I’ll probably never get out of my brain now.

Johnny’s making himself comfortable on his back, pretty much in the middle. Dutch looks at me in a way that I know means I’m supposed to get on there next to him, and he hardly needs to tell me twice. Johnny turns his face to me as I move up by his side, and I’m dying to see what we’re gonna do to him, how he’s gonna look while we do.

Dutch climbs over him on all fours, with one knee either side of roughly where his hips are. He takes hold of my hand, moving it under his body where he hovers over Johnny, pushing me toward Johnny’s erection.

“You take care of this for a while. Make it _good.”_

I hold Johnny in what’s becoming a familiar action now, one I’m starting to learn how to do without much thought. The weight of him still feels amazing, and I love watching his face when I first start, and for those moments, we’re looking at each other.

But I’m drawn like a magnet when I see Dutch find a space at the bottom of his neck. Johnny’s face tightens like he’s in absolute ecstasy not long after that, and he closes his eyes. He’s already starting on some slow, heavy breaths, the only sound we all hear in my quiet room, and they get louder when Dutch moves to work on his pulse point. I see the red mark left behind on Johnny’s throat, and it looks like Dutch is starting on another.

He sucks so hard that Johnny makes a sharp sound, his hands coming up to grip Dutch at his waist, hard.

“You’re gonna need to wear a high collar, Johnny,” I hear Dutch muttering. “Maybe a fucking turtleneck. For a _week._ ”

I pick up my pace, loving the way Johnny groans in response to what he’s been told, wondering if I’ll ever get to do that to him, or the other way around, and he’s gripping so hard I’m wondering how he isn’t crushing Dutch.

“You ready, Bobby?” I hear Dutch say. “Take him to the edge.”

I see the way Johnny’s thighs start to tense, his knees drawing up higher, so I know I’m doing well. He’s giving all the signs he gives when he’s getting ready to come. His eyes find me again, staring at me as his tightness comes in, as Dutch does whatever he’s doing under his neck, and I’m locked in to him.

My own arousal, which has been simmering quietly, comes into life again, and it’s only moments until I’m achingly hard, unable not to respond to his face when he looks like that, that he wants to share it with me.

I figure I should try my best to do the thing properly for him. “You want me to just keep going?” I ask quietly, some confidence coming into me. “You gonna be able to stop me in time…?”

Johnny’s jaw clenches tight, and I see his eyes flicker with urgency.

“I can see how close you are…” I tell him.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Johnny grits out, and I wonder if it’s just that he’s surprised at me, but I totally get why we’re doing this now. There’s a power trip, there’s trust given, it’s insanely hot, and I think I might _love_ it.

His whole body’s gone tight, and finally he makes a growl that I know means that’s it.

I stop in the instant, and Dutch sits up a little, looking down at him, and I take my hand away.

“Good?” Dutch asks.

“Fucking _hell_.”

Johnny is flushed, still out of breath, but he looks amazing, the way he’s smirking hotly up at Dutch.

“What’ve you done to my neck?”

Dutch laughs quietly. “Marked you. It felt good, right?”

“It was fucking _awesome._ Felt like you were biting me.”

“I did, a little.”

“I want you to do that again sometime.”

“And I want you both to get started on _my_ turn,” Dutch says. “I think I’ve waited pretty patiently.”

Johnny’s eyes flick over to me. “Do you… wanna show him what you learned the other day?”

My throat goes hot. “Yes,” I say, quickly, a little high pitched, and Johnny smirks at me.

Dutch is climbing off, this little smile on his lips, and I’m eagerly sitting up.

“Where you want me?” Dutch asks, waiting for me on his knees.

“Maybe at the edge of the bed?”

He does what I ask, and I kinda love that he’s left the white shorts on for me to take down, because I start doing that, start revealing more and more of his skin, and then his golden hair, and it’s just _hot_ to undress him.

His dick comes free, so sexy, so hard, and I know every time I look at him or Johnny from now on, my mouth is going to water.

I leave his shorts around his ankles and kneel on them, and his thighs fit around my body like a glove as I move in. I’ve got my elbows up on them, and I take him in one hand, not too firmly yet, as I look up at him. With my other thumb I touch his abs, right near his navel, because I can’t stop thinking of how he feels right there.

“Can you tell me how you like it?” I ask him.

He smiles in the particular way that makes you want to never again look away from his dark eyes.

“Yeah, if you’d like me to.”

I start with just a long touch with my mouth on him, that softest skin. The next one my lips are open enough that I make his tip wet, and then I go again, slowly adding my tongue.

Again I am almost overcome with the need to close my eyes, because it feels like I am kissing Dutch right now, like that’s his tongue in my mouth, for some reason, which I don’t get.

But I lock on instead into watching for reactions to how I’m going, and they start to come with the creases around his eyes, with the way his lips part, and I think maybe he likes me to pay attention to the end of him this way. He’s got a deep groove like Johnny, tight, there, which I wonder might be because they don’t have a foreskin, and his head is a different shape, different angle.

It’s at this stage that Johnny appears behind him, and he puts his legs either side of Dutch, still on his knees, and his hands come up to Dutch’s shoulders.

Johnny’s watching me as I start to take Dutch in, and I know how far I can easily do it, only going that far for now, remembering to keep my teeth well covered.

“Everything you’re doing feels amazing so far, Bobby…” Dutch sighs, and puts a hand on the side of my head, near my ear, his fingers sliding into my hair.

“I like that you’re starting slow like that. Slow can be better than _anything,_ if you know how to do it right.”

My cheeks are warmed, by how good that is to hear, and I keep going, feeling his body shift into me a bit, and his breath starts to sound for me.

He slips his other hand behind his back, and when I see his elbow start moving, I look to Johnny, finding the immediate effect on his face. Dutch is making me feel like I’m doing everything right, and yet he can still focus on Johnny, too, keep him going, and I think he’s been doing that kind of thing all along since that other time, like it’s natural to him. I need to learn how to do that, because at this moment it feels like there’s nothing I want more than to make both of them feel as good as I do.

I try out whether I can get my tongue to do anything now that my mouth is so open and full of him, and Dutch loves it; he gives this sound that makes me throb painfully and when I start tasting the stronger tang, I realise that extra fire in how I’m feeling is my erection, pressing on the front of my tracksuit, and it’s all I can do not to try to rub myself against a hard surface so that I can just _come._ It really wouldn’t take long, I’m sore from how much I fucking _need_ to just be able to let go, from being hard for so long.

I’m finding it almost too intense to have both of them enjoying this moment with me, _fuck_ , it seems impossible that it should be _allowed_ , me doing this while Dutch stares at me like that, while his stomach starts to pull in, his fingers start to move against my scalp.

Johnny makes this tight groan, and moves Dutch’s hand away, obviously not needing any more just now, and instead he reaches around to cover where I’m holding Dutch. It’s like he’s bringing Dutch into my mouth now, and Dutch starts to go tense.

I increase my pressure, and he manages to nod at me, _yes,_ and I watch as he gets closer and closer.

It’s only a little bit longer before he has to call it off, right when I see something start crowding into his eyes.

He’s gasping when I stop, when I gently let go of his dick, still hard as a rock, still beautiful as hell.

“That was fucking _good,”_ he tells me, and he touches my swollen lips with two fingers. “You already know what you’re doing… that was amazing.”

I have a bad feeling I might be blushing a little, but I hide it by standing up again, and this means they both see the shape sticking forward in my pants.

“Lie down,” Johnny tells me, and he’s moving back so Dutch can get back on the bed properly.

They both pull my tracksuit off, and after that we are a mess together. Johnny’s dragging me to fall in between them again, all of us lying down, our bodies warm and soon getting slick as we share heat, and he has me facing Dutch, so that _his body is behind me again_ , touching all the way along my back, and fucking hell, I’m gonna need that to keep happening.

Dutch and I are reaching for each other, trying desperately to listen for when to stop, staring hard, smiling. I have my hand, my mouth on his deltoid, licking, tasting his salt, tasting _him,_ and then I’m pulling back to look at that face that I can’t get out of my mind, feeling like I’m drunk: his stubble, his lips, that _scar,_ getting as much of him as I can, too much and _nowhere near enough_.

Johnny is touching over any place he can reach on my body, anywhere he wants, massaging me: my muscles, my dick, even my neck, and I feel his face near my shoulder. I feel his breath, his mouth so close to me, feel his hardness pressing me in my back.

I’m reaching back like Dutch did, finding that at this point, with how turned on we all are, you don’t have to do a particularly good job of this for it to be _great:_ it’s all about the hot hands going everywhere, the sounds we can hear, the fact that three of us are here making each other feel this way, and that we’re all going to come, give each other something mind-blowing.

When I get an image in my head that I just can’t shake, I let go of Dutch’s hard-on and put my hand at his waist.

“Go… up, please? Can I watch you on top of Johnny again?”

Dutch smiles and brushes my mouth, before he bites his lower lip, and then he gets up. He climbs over me, rolling me onto my back, and causing Johnny to move across, away to give me room. Dutch sits there for a moment on my thighs, and strokes me a few times, while I gaze up at him and moan, desperately into how it feels to have him on my body like that.

Then he moves over one more place, on top of Johnny, and I roll in to face them.

I find them both with my hand, bring them together, and I see how they smile at each other when I do that, and it nearly blinds me with desire.

Johnny’s got his hand on my dick, firm, and I think we’re gonna go for it now, I fucking _hope_ we are.

He gives me one more look before we do, and it’s entirely number three, a few seconds. Too many seconds. But when he looks away, it’s not enough seconds after all, but he’s starting to rub me up and down, and this is _it._

His gaze is back on Dutch, and I take them as fast as I think they’re gonna want it now, my hand full of hardness under soft, soft skin, the sexiest thing in the world I can imagine. Dutch is bending down over him, at his neck again, where the red marks are, but it’s not the biting anymore; he’s kissing him there, the way he kissed me when we started, and something about it makes my chest hurt.

But there’s too much going on for me to think about, because Johnny knows how I like it done when I’m gonna come, and that’s what he’s doing. They just both feel so unreal in my hand, and I’m thinking about how much better it will get once they actually start their end, because I’m gonna be touching while that happens, I’m going to feel it.

The fucking feeling at my groin is like someone has my insides in a vise, every nerve ending being touched, brushed, and as my tightness draws in I start to worry if I’m even going to be able to survive this.

By the way Johnny is groaning, his hand on me becoming less measured and careful by the second, he might be the same, and Dutch is breathing so hard and hot against his neck, I want to record that with a microphone, so I can listen to it over and over.

Dutch starts to kiss up under his chin, over his chin, and Johnny starts to turn his head away, eyes full of need, but with that clouded look again, and then Dutch says, “Please. _Please,_ Johnny…”

I feel one of them start to twitch in my hand, and hotness fills me there as they start to come, and my itch twists like a cork being unscrewed and _breaks._

In the final second, I see Dutch kiss him, Johnny let him join their mouths.

And then I’m hit by a weight that makes me cry out and shout, gasping, coming into Johnny’s hand so hard I can’t see anything but red, _black_ , while he takes me through it.

I’m feeling their end on my hand, and mine goes for way longer than usual because of it, like I’m _shaking,_ shuddering, with it, and I can’t seem to stop being in the feeling of release, in the flood after flood of relief that comes.

*


	2. Increased Heartrate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, this is your last chance to turn around before we get into the feels.
> 
> Still here? It’s _not_ gonna get heavy AF, but there is a soreness here, and for the next little bit after this, but it’s _not_ going to take an epic saga to unpick what’s going on, and to release it. It will just take another instalment or two, and in the meantime, the things that fundamentally have defined Sweat until now will remain too :)
> 
> EXCEPT, MAYBE NOT IN THIS CHAPTER. Oh shittttttttt, it’s not a sex one. IT’S NOT THO???…. . If this was a single chapter fic, I’d only be able to rate it M, I think. SORRY.
> 
> There’s other stuff happening, though :) Kinda pretty important stuff, I guess. Stuff these guys are determined to do before I expected them to XD. And this takes us into Part 6/7, where the other things you seem to kind of like await once more. WELL NEW ONES TOO MAYBE.
> 
> Hope this is a good one for you, anyway. Thank you for your interactions with my last chapter, haha!! SecretSecret, Wadsworth, Ysabel and my fandom boss KingKarate. You are diamonds <33333\. Please, anyone else who feels inclined, do join us here, or on tumblr or on discord (ask for a link) - we’d love to have you in our crazed talks <3 And I would love to hear from you about why you read Sweat.
> 
> As for the next 2 parts, which may be posted in one 2-chapter instalment again (or possibly back to two separate parts) in 2021: one of them will be Johnny and Bobby. The other will be a pair too, but not that pair. It’s still Bobby’s POV, so you do the math and see what you come up with.

When I can use my eyes again, they’re still kissing, Dutch and Johnny.

Dutch has his hand weaved in Johnny’s hair, and I can see their mouths moving together, a small glimpse of their tongues moving, joining, over and over, less urgently now, if only because it’s not wild and fast. But it’s as deep a kiss as any I can think of ever seeing.

I can’t look away. And again, something feels odd inside me, because I… _I_ want to do that. It’s like, sore, because I don’t know if I’m allowed to, not sure how to find _out_ if I’m allowed to, without making everyone real uncomfortable if I’m not. Because it sure as hell seemed like Johnny wanted to fight it with Dutch, even if he’s now all in.

Basically Johnny’s approach to this whole thing, when I think about it, I guess, but this was way more.

I’m slowly recovering my breath. As much as I wish I was one of them, either one, just so I could know what that feels like, I also can’t helping thinking how perfect they look. There’s no way they haven’t done this before. What I don’t get is, who the fuck wouldn’t do it all the time, if they had the option available?

Johnny’s moved his hand, the hand he used on me, onto my hip, just a light weight on me, like he’s unsure whether to put it there, and I think maybe, just _maybe_ , it means that he’s telling me he knows I’m still here. That’s what I want it to mean, but I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything and he’s just caught up in what he’s doing.

Dutch isn’t stopping, and I can’t blame him: if it’s that hard to get Johnny to kiss you, I wouldn’t stop either.

I’ve left my hand where it is, on their warm, damp skin, holding them as they soften, since I didn’t want to disturb them.

Eventually Johnny breaks the contact, and Dutch pulls away, their lips wet, flushed.

Dutch hesitates, as if he’s gonna get off the far side and lie down over there, next to Johnny, but instead, he comes to my other side, behind me, and he lays a heavy arm around me, around my waist, and I feel him sink down into the bed, along my body.

Somewhere in there Johnny took his hand away from me, so I have lost one contact but gained a comforting new one behind me, that I haven’t come up with any idea how to respond to yet.

I’m still lying on my side, facing Johnny, and don’t understand what Dutch being back there means, which I’m starting to realise is basically _my_ whole approach to this whole thing, but how in the hell am I _supposed_ to know?

I’ve never done this before. I never realised I _wanted_ to. Not with guys, not with more than one person. It’s all new, and it’s all something I might possibly actually want for me, I think, if it was an option.

But whatever we’re doing, as much as I love it, is confusing. No one will ever tell me anything; and I’m not sure I’m someone who would be able to expect an answer about things from them, given what I just saw.

My old fear is back, or my old question: why do they want _me_ with them?

Johnny’s on his back, looking up at nothing for a little while, and then he turns his head slightly, looking down somewhere near my stomach, like he’s trying to fight the urge to look at me, and then those blue eyes slowly find me, filled with something that makes a stinging feeling under my ribs.

I could equally believe the look means he’s disappointed at me about something, or that he thinks I’ll be disappointed at _him_ , and he’s waiting for me to show it. Honestly, I have no idea which it is, and maybe it isn’t either, it could be something else entirely.

 _What?_ I want to say. _What have I done?_

I don’t. It’s usually hard to talk when Johnny’s giving me any of the looks, but this one is impossible to deal with, to form real impulses while it’s on you.

I try to tell him, with my face, that there’s nothing he could ever do that would make me disappointed, in case that helps. I know who he is; I know everything. I even know every mistake he’s ever made, and I don’t care.

“Did you…. did you like it?” he says eventually, in a quiet voice.

“It was better than you said it would be. It’s the best… _time_ , I think I’ve ever had.”

There’s a small movement on his lips, and then the hint of a smile. “Yeah?”

I put all the warmth I can find into the smile I give him. “Thank you for showing me. I fucking _loved_ it. Thank you both.”

Dutch’s hand squeezes in a little, fingers on my stomach, and I’m toying with the idea of putting my arm on top of his, along his, but I haven’t decided whether to, because that would definitely look like I was hugging him.

“Worth the wait?” says the voice from behind me, and he sounds kinda sleepy, at peace. Maybe he’s dazed, because that’s the only way I can imagine I’d feel, if I got to kiss Johnny.

“Be worth waiting ten times longer,” I say back to him, without turning. “Holy _shit._ ”

That tension is slipping away from Johnny’s face now, whatever it was, and thank god.

“Right?” Dutch agrees. “So, Bobby… you got a shower in this place, or what? I’m kinda in a bad way over here.”

I grin, because he’s right; it’s happened again, and it looks like it could happen every time, who knows. You just don’t think about it in the heat of the moment.

*

I’ve never had three people in my bed, not for anything, and certainly not to sleep all night.

I’ve got the light on outside my room, the door cracked, in case anyone needs to get up, and they forget where they are.

Johnny sleeps on his stomach, in between us. Sometimes when I stir, he’s facing into Dutch, and I see the back of his head on the pillow next to me. Sometimes, he’s facing toward me. I hear the small noises he makes while he sleeps, just occasional soundings: a sigh, the different breathing rhythms from deep and so slow that I wonder if the next breath will ever come, to lighter, shallower patterns as he moves between sleep phases. Sometimes his eyelids flutter, some kind of dream going on behind those, and sometimes he frowns.

Once, he’s awake at the same time as I am, but he only looks at me for a few beats before closing his eyes again.

*

In the morning, I’ve brought up a big pot of coffee on a tray. I’ve got cups, I’ve got bagels, I’ve got plates, and knives.

And I’ve got questions.

They’re going to answer some of them.

I won’t ask too many yet, not enough to risk ruining what they give me when we’re together; I’ll be careful.

The lazy assholes are still basically asleep when I come back up, so I make a show of rattling the shit around on the silver tray, as I set it down on the bed, and the clanging has the effect I hoped for.

“What the fuck?” I hear from a tired Dutch, and from Johnny just a groan, as he cracks an eye.

“Breakfast in bed,” I tell them. The naked men in my bedroom.

“Hungry? I got coffee?”

Johnny’s sitting up pretty quickly at that word, for someone who was supposedly asleep, and Dutch is already eyeing the toppings I brought up.

Once we’re all sitting there with our second coffee, and most of the bagels have been demolished, I draw in my breath.

I look at Dutch, then Johnny, and I say, hopefully pretty lightly, “So look, I just need to know, are you guys…?”

There’s a silence for a few moments, and the way Dutch looks at Johnny makes me think he doesn’t love what Johnny’s about to say.

Johnny’s working on spreading the last half bagel with all of the remaining cream cheese. “Pretty sure you know the answer to that is no.”

“No?” I ask, confused.

“No.”

“Well, okay then. I kinda thought you were, thought maybe you had been before, too.”

Dutch sighs, sort of irritably, and raises his eyebrows meaningfully at Johnny, like maybe Johnny’s supposed to say more on the subject, I’m not sure.

But Johnny’s mouth goes tight, and he won’t.

So Dutch speaks instead. “You’ve asked the thing I ask him, Bobby.”

This causes Johnny to glare at him, although not with much venom, and then frown uncomfortably down at what he was doing with his breakfast, kinda frozen, looking like he wants to be anywhere else but here.

Dutch eventually looks at me, and something in my heart goes out to him painfully. He doesn’t say more; I guess maybe he knows that’s enough for me to understand.

“Sorry…” I say, and I mean it about that look on his face, as much as I mean it for bringing this up, which now seems like a real bad idea. “I only asked, because I thought maybe you were, and I wasn’t sure why you wanted _me_ here.”

“Do you _want_ to be here?” Johnny asks me, and it’s sharp enough to make me recoil.

“Yes.”

“So what’s the fucking problem, then?”

I feel like shying away from him, from the sudden aggression, really wishing I hadn’t stirred this up.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I didn’t mean to….”

Dutch sighs again, loudly, this time more like he’s weary. “Fuck that. You have every right to ask that question, Bobby, and Johnny’s being an ass.”

Johnny glares at him again, but Dutch holds up okay under it, which I admire, because I doubt I could.

“What? You don’t think it’s right that Bobby gets to know something, _anything,_ about it? He’s never done anything like this. You seriously think he’s not gonna wonder?”

Johnny seems to soften just slightly, although he’s being very closed.

He says, “I just don’t know why everyone has to have a name for things. Has to define things and turn them into something else. Why can’t it just _be_ what it is?”

I’m feeling awful, because it looks like I’ve driven something between them, which is the last thing I wanted to do.

“It _can_ just be, Johnny,” I say hopefully. “I only wanted to make sure I wasn’t in the way.”

The rest of the harshness seems to fall away again then, as he stares at his plate. He picks it up and puts it back on the tray without eating the bagel.

He looks at me guardedly, although I recognise there’s something below that, something soft, which is even more shocking in light of how he spoke to me before, like maybe regret that he did it, because I know what regret looks like on his face.

When he speaks, it’s with some of that in his voice.

“Do you think I would have asked you, if you were gonna be in the way? You think Dutch woulda been okay with that?”

“I guess not.”

“So can we drop it?”

I don’t really have a choice, so I nod. I guess I got the answer to two very important questions then, but also a strangely heavy feeling about how Dutch is with it all, and I don’t know whether I should try to do anything to make sure he knows that I see it.

“We can drop it.”

“You’re not in my way,” Dutch tells me with a smile. “I want you here with us. Gonna be disappointed if you aren’t. It feels right for me.”

“I wanna be here with both of you. It feels more right than I… can even say.”

“Well, thank fuck that’s settled then,” Johnny tells us both, and it’s pretty clear we’re supposed to move on, even though I disagree; it’s definitely not all settled. But perhaps it is enough, for now.

So I decide on a huge change of subject.

“Do you guys do what we did last night, every time?”

Dutch smirks at Johnny, who returns it, and it makes me feel real happy to see, like maybe I didn’t fuck it up for them, after all.

“Nah, Bobby,” he says. “We got other things we do. Although, that’s a pretty good one.”

Johnny makes a sound of agreement. “Last night blew my mind. We’re definitely gonna have to do that with all of us again.”

I smile. “You gonna check your calendar or what?”

Johnny gives a small laugh, and it reaches his eyes. “Were you always this horny? You literally can’t get enough, can you?”

I’m not ashamed and I let my gaze drop down his body when I reply, “I guess not. I mean, there’s a lot, to get, and I kinda need to, you know?”

Johnny laughs the same sound again, and Dutch smirks at me, and he moves closer to me, sitting with his legs crossed so that his knee falls on top of mine.

“You can get some from me whenever you want it.”

“Good to know,” I tell him, because he’s really, really naked. “Same here, like, if you want to.”

“Definitely want to.”

Johnny comes in with, “Shit, you guys are as bad as each other. I haven’t had enough coffee to be up for it yet, and I need another shower. Although, you start anything before I get back, you’ll hear about it.”

“Okay Johnny,” Dutch agrees, chuckling, and Johnny fishes around in his bag to find some clothes.

He looks at us before he leaves, gives me a small smile, and yet one that I feel might be extremely important, and one to Dutch, and then he’s gone.

“Like I said, you get used to it,” Dutch tells me, and he sounds pretty resigned, so I think that’s a message that we’re not gonna talk about that anymore, right now.

He lifts his knee up and lets it fall on mine again, like gently nudging me, just physical contact for the sake of it. That’s always been him, and it feels really nice, but like way different to when he does it as my friend, cos that isn’t how he means it right now.

He’s got this look of concentration. “I saw, Bobby.”

“Huh?”

He’s looking so intensely at me, kinda sad, I think?

“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?”

Oh.

I look down in my lap. I don’t see much point in hiding it, other than that I am a bit worried it might hurt Dutch if I admit it, but it seems like he already knows anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Dutch rubs his knuckle against my leg, just once.

“You don’t need to be sorry for that. Of course you want to. How could you not, after you’ve known him so long, been close for so long, and now what we’re doing together?”

There’s a really weird, hot feeling in my chest, and it feels tight, too, like my heart doesn’t have enough room to beat properly. I don’t understand how he can get me so well, and also, I guess it feels like more relief than I expected that he seems okay about it.

“I do,” I admit.

He says pretty softy, “It’s not something he feels, like, comfortable doing. So I… I dunno how long you’re gonna have to wait. For that to happen.”

I nod, and I’m chewing my lip. “I kinda noticed that. Would you be okay… if he ever does?”

“Of course.” Dutch smiles. “He will… don’t say ever. I just think it could be a while. I promise you it will be worth waiting for, though.”

I can only hope Dutch knows what he’s talking about, because if it ever does happen, it might be the end for me, the best end. I smile, feeling kinda shy, since I don’t wanna think too much about how much I want it to happen, not while we’re sitting here.

“It looked like it. It looked amazing.”

“It always is,” he says with a sigh. “Fucker won’t give it to me very often, though. That’s the first time, since we – well, since we started up again. I guess, maybe, he thinks it would make us much more like a couple, if we did things like that all the time. Which, as you just heard, he doesn’t wanna be.”

I summon up the courage to look at Dutch. “Do you?”

“I dunno. I mean kinda? I’d try it; I’d like to try it, because maybe it would be, like... well, I guess there’s no point in going there. He won’t.”

“That’s pretty fucked up.”

“Johnny is pretty fucked up. We both know that.”

Two sentences which can explain almost our entire lives with our friend.

I get it: we care about him as much as each other does, it’s just it’s come out differently over the years. But it’s always been there: fierce. Strong. The need to protect every one of us. The need to protect Johnny, from everything that has hurt him before or tries to hurt him. It’s not an instinct you have any chance of fighting, and I’ve never tried to.

The instinct to try to think of things that will make it better for him, make some of the things better. None of those feelings are as sharp as they used to be: they’ve ceased to be necessary in a lot of ways, and yet, some of the things he’s gone through have cut him down so deep, it’s hard to know if they can ever be fixed.

The way I handle that, the way Dutch does, is that we’re _there_ , and he knows he can count on us without question. I’d do anything for him that he needs; I always have. And I don’t think it’s any different for Dutch.

But even so, I can see how much it hurts Dutch not to have what he’d like to with my friend.

“I’m sorry,” I offer, and this time I know that Dutch gets I’m saying it only about this, for him.

He tips his head a little to the side, and it reminds me of when he looked at Johnny on his sofa that day, to ask him where he wanted to stay the night.

“Would you like to kiss me instead?”

A sudden different warmth blooms in my chest, in my ears, and I thought there used to be oxygen in my bedroom, but it’s run out.

“I…” I try, but it’s not really what you could call a sound, that comes out. The vulnerability has left me wide open to my feelings, and I can’t pretend I don’t need this.

Dutch smiles, and I think he can see that I’m physically not going to be able to reply.

“Cos I’d really, really like to kiss you.”

I’m trying to nod; it’s about the best I’m gonna be able to do, so that Dutch doesn’t take the offer back without doing it.

I _need_ him to do it.

He gets up on his knees, and comes in front of me, sinks down so we’re nearly level, and my heart begins to beat so hard as I look at him, that I wonder he can’t see it on my chest.

He places one hand on my shoulder, and I feel his thumb rub me there. I don’t understand why Dutch looks so good, and why it makes me feel so weird when he’s tender with me. And it’s definitely a good kind of weird.

He starts to move in, while my brain misfires repeatedly, sending scrambled messages though my head, my heart, but I lean forward too, and close my eyes.

Our lips touch, and we stay as still as a stone, for a moment, and I feel his breath come out, onto me: coffee, sweet jam, warmth.

It must be nice for him to have air to breathe like that, because I don’t, but I’ll do without it.

His lips move, part, and he kisses me. When I feel his tongue touch mine, the messages in my head become a deafening roar: buzzing, white static, mayday.

Mayday.

The hand on me moves over to my neck, comes around to the back, tightens to pull me closer to him, and I feel him getting up higher, and I’m trying to lean on my knees, unlock them, so I can follow.

And then we’re together, and Dutch has got his mouth open, and he’s trying to get inside mine like he could live there, and I realise that sound was me, then, that stupid almost _moan._

I’m terrified, because this is better than any kiss I remember, and how will I not do it all the time now that I know it exists?

Dutch makes a sound too, kissing me even deeper, and it undoes me. I can’t really help putting my hand up, both hands up to his face, and his lips are just so soft compared to the roughness of the skin around them, with his growing stubble, which I feel on my own skin, that I now understand that I think maybe kissing is supposed to feel like this, feels way better when it’s like this. I’m supposed to be able to run my hands over his jawline, feel the scrape above my top lip.

Dutch slows, slows the heat of the kiss, and breaks away, and I instinctively try to go after him, but realise I should hold back, because after all, we did kinda say we wouldn’t start anything without Johnny.

But Dutch is breathing hard, smiling into my face, and fucking hell, I do not know what we are doing right now.

He shakes his head slowly. “Bobby, I been thinking about doing that, pretty much since you strolled into my room and took your clothes off. And I gotta say, you don’t disappoint.”

“Does it always feel like that?” I ask, whispering, panting. “Does it always feel like you might die any second?”

“If you do it right, it does.”

He brushes my lips with his thumb, and I know that every time he does that from now on, in my head, will be this kiss. That’s where I’ll go.

“Do we….” I begin. “Do we gotta tell Johnny we did that?”

Dutch sits back down on the bed, and I do too.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then his eyes flick over my shoulder.

“Tell me what?”

Johnny’s come in, although I don’t know exactly when.

He’s inside the doorway of my bedroom, and he’s got one towel wrapped around his waist, and another one he’s using to rub dry his hair.

I look at Dutch in alarm, and he sighs.

Right away, he says, “I just kissed Bobby. And seeing as how you don’t really wanna kiss me much, and I _do_ wanna kiss, both of you, I guess you’re gonna be okay with that.”

I’m wondering if I can get away with not turning back, and never looking Johnny in the eyes again.

I figure I may as well get it over with.

He’s caught with that towel up by his head, although he slowly lowers it when I glance across the room. His face looks closed, like he’s either deliberately hiding what he thinks, or still working out what he thinks.

“Is that what you wanted?” he asks me.

“Yeah,” I say hesitantly. “But I don’t… I don’t have to do it again.”

“You can do whatever you wanna do.” He sounds tight, and Dutch looks at me and rolls his eyes ever so slightly.

“You’re right, Johnny, he can, and so can I, since we all just decided that we’re just gonna _be_. Now, what I wanna _be_ doing involves something under that towel you have on. You gonna help me out?”

I can’t not smile, and it seems Johnny can’t manage it either, although there’s a little strain in it.

I get there before Dutch, since I’m closer, just, and I’m the one kneeling down while Dutch pulls the towel undone.

Johnny isn’t hard yet, and I’m about to reach for him, when Dutch says, “Just take him in your mouth now. He loves that.”

I look up at Johnny while I take his softest skin inside, and I do my best to show him that nothing’s gonna change for me, that this can be exactly whatever will make him happy.

I suck softly, so softly, as I feel him grow in my mouth.


End file.
